


Sleeping Beast

by yana69



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Demons, F/F, F/M, Gen, I will add more characters, Multi, it wont be THAT bloody but you know, we rarepairing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-09-27 19:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20412790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yana69/pseuds/yana69
Summary: Little Marianne and her big horns. Let us find the real culprit





	1. The Beast

**Author's Note:**

> HEYYY i think i wrote too many dialogues but what can i say. i promise it wont be like that in next chapters lmao (and then she wrote even more dialogues)

Marianne remembered the time when she loved the sun.

It was a part of her childhood, when her parents were alive and dreams were born every day, the fulfillment of which she was absolutely sure about. 

Now the sun only reminds about the sins that Marianne would have to commit.

Every day, she sat down in front of a window in the spacious living room of someone else's house, where her adoptive father hid her. He didn’t know that the threat was much closer than it seemed. She huddled in the sun, grimly agreeing to the verdict, regretting only that she lacked the courage to harm herself.

Therefore, she simply looked into the distance, awaiting the trial.

Somewhere out there, through forests and even cities, Demons roamed. Full of horns and teeth, they were a perfect horror story that parents repeated to their children at night, so that the children would then discuss them with each other, adding colorful details. Few people knew what the demons really looked like - their victims used to die before people came to hear a detailed description.

Marianne knew well about at least two demons appearances.

"Knock knock," - Flayn froze at the door, smiling awkwardly. "Am I distracting you?"

"No.. Of course you are not distracting," - Marianne knew well what the girl’s shoes looked like, but she could hardly describe her face. "I just, well," - the girl waved her hand vaguely, looking down even more than usual. She is just sitting. Trying not to interfere. Trying not to sleep.

"Perfect! You have guests. This is the doctor your father requested."

Flayn steps aside, letting the guest pass, and Marianne respects the norms of a more or less high society into which she was thrown: she gets up from her chair and looks up to greet the doctor.

His face expressed polite interest. It's good. The less he really thinks about her, the less questions that he never wants the answers to. Flayn is worried about her for real and Marianne is terribly ashamed that she is letting her down by mere existing.

"You are younger than I thought," - an awkward attempt to start a conversation, unsuccessful to boot.

"Should I take this as a compliment?" - He smiles, and Flayn hides a chuckle behind her palm. Marianne is panicking.

"Sorry, I didn’t want to offend you," - picking up a book that she didn’t even read, the girl walks to the door and, while struggling to maintain eye contact, takes a deep breath. 

"Call me when you want ... Um, when you want to discuss ... symptoms ... Have a nice day," - and Marianne walked slowly along the corridor, only the wind whistled in her ears.

"By the way, my name is Linhardt," - she heard the words thrown at her, but the reaction was a fleeting stop and a quick nod.

Marianne tried to occupy as little space as possible and not attract attention, but her absence in the living room immediately became noticeable; as if the room was built only so that the girl could spend all her time in it. Flayn, accustomed to the company of Marianne, noticed this especially sharply, and looked at the young man with sad expression, taking up an abandoned chair.

"And it is like that for the last two months."

"Insomnia?"

"Yes. And for some reason, she refuses to sleep during the day. But you saw her eyes are sticking together!" - Flayn frantically shakes. "I cannot understand what is happening to her."

"Did your aunt have trouble sleeping?" - Linhardt spreads out on the couch; his relaxed tone does not match the attentive squint.

"Quite the contrary. Dad says, when she turned into a demon, on the first day the only thing that the aunt did was sleeping."

"I always thought that was the most logical. The human body is undergoing many changes, and it needs rest. But perhaps that was an exception to the rule?"

"I don't care," - a decisive sigh.

"Stay calm, we will deal with this. The chance to work directly with a newly converted demon ... We are incredibly lucky."

"Linhardt!"

For a few moments they look at each other; one - menacingly, the other - sincerely trying to take a frightened appearance. Linhardt deeply respected Flayn, but could not separate this respect from the curiosity that his company caused with her life. They didn’t know how old she was. Of course, there were documents, and according to the them she was seventeen, but Flayn clearly remembered (and accidentally repeatedly explained) the historical facts of fifty years ago. Her father is one of the main sponsors of the Black Eagles and Blue Lions, the origin of the money source of whom no one could tell. Abstract wealth, looking more like many years of accumulation. 

Aunt is a demon lost in a dreamy madness. She seemed to exist both in the past and in the future, and Linhardt spent more time deciphering her vague answers than directly talking.

Flayn did much more than her father allowed her. Her duties included only looking after this house, owned by the Blue Lions, a well-known haven for people chased by especially unpleasant demons, or just for those who felt their approach and hoped to move to another city. But at the request of Linhardt, the girl made tea for Marianne every morning, and in the evening she casted spells over the girl’s room, using magic unknown even to the young man who introduced himself as a doctor.

"Do we know about her father’s plans?" - Linhardt gallantly surrendered in this game of peepers. "How often does he checks on her, does he come? When does he plan to take her away?"

"You..." - the last words make Flayn lean forward, as if she almost heard what she was counting on, but got a yawn instead of an answer. "A letter once a week. It is a miracle, to be honest - he is incredibly busy. He was more likely to benefit from her presence here than at his home. But he cherishes her - if the contact breaks, then he will probably come in person. Hmmm, what else? Initially, we agreed that we would hide her for six months, three quiet months, and then the month after when he either would want to pick her up early, or vice versa - leave her for a longer time."

"Noted. Thank you."

"I learned to fake her handwriting," - an interesting fact thrown carelessly, accompanied by widened eyes and an expressive movement of the eyebrows.

"Incredible, but what about lunch?"

While Flayn led him along the endlessly long corridors that separated him from food and sleep, he suddenly noticed that something had changed about her. The great thinker was puzzled for several minutes until he realized that her hair was gathered in a neat bun.

"Your hairstyle is new."

"Yes! Marianne changed it up," - Flayn was pouting with pride, swiftly dodging Linhardt's hand. "Do not even think about touching it, I have been asking for it for a hundred years."

"I did not think that she was capable in this regard. I'm not trying to be rude, just-"

"I know her head does not look so presentable. I noticed that she didn’t like to look in the mirror. Probably, she collects hair blindly every morning," - the girl was silent. "Help her, otherwise I won’t let any of you come here anymore. And will tell everything to dad. "

*

She really spent all her time in the living room - otherwise Linhardt could not explain how easily the “patient” was found. It seemed that as soon as they left that room, Marianne immediately materialized there just to stare out of the window. 

He didn’t want to disturb her and didn’t know how to break a gloomy trance, so he sat silently, waiting for the girl to return to the real world. Yes, maybe Linhardt dozed off for a couple of minutes, but so what? Theoretically, he was here to help her fall asleep, and it was very nice of him to show an example of how to behave late in the evening. 

  
"It’s probably impolite to make you wait for me," - he definitely underestimated her. Linhardt didn’t even think that Marianne would try to fool him. "Go to sleep, and I will answer all the questions tomorrow."

"I did not want to distract you from your thoughts. In addition, I am not in a rush, I am here only for you and your well-being."

Looks like Marianne did not consider such a turn of events, because the girl fell silent again, looking completely confused. For the old heart of twenty-year-old Linhardt, this becomes a challenge - it’s easy for him to remain silent, but he had some idea how awkward it is for the others to do. Especially after they pretended to be extremely busy with their own thoughts in order to avoid conversation.

"There is an interesting myth related to demons. I think it’s theme is suitable for the house in which we are now," - he tries not to notice the tense atmosphere that abruptly covers the room. "Many people think that demons hunt only at night. Most likely, this is due to the fact that such a story is easier to scare the child, and then this knowledge goes too far."

Maybe Marianne understood what he was leading to, but she surely didn’t show it. The girl continued to look somewhere in his direction, but not at him directly. 

"It seems to me, Marianne, that you force yourself to stay awake at night."

"Just not in mood to sleep."

"Yes. Of course. How is your throat? Does it hurt?"

"No, everything is fine."

"Flayn’s hair was beautifully braided today, you did it to her, right?"

"Yes, she almost begged, and I could no longer refuse."

"Do you have horizontal pupils in a demonic form or some other shape?"

"Horiz-," - her frightened eyes glow with a soft amber light, and Linhardt sees that her pupils are really horizontal. Marianne rises from the chair so quickly that it falls, but then quickly stands up, and the girl is seated back by an invisible force.

"It's all right, Marianne. As I said before, I came here only to help you."

"You are not the doctor from my father, right?.."

"The real doctor was bribed and returned home. I apologize, but these are the decisions of the Black Eagles."

"So you are from them."

Linhardt does not like the hope that appeared on the girl's face. Her smile is not at all the relief he would like to see, and a relaxed pose made it even worse. 

"Will you kill me," - she sounds confident, asking this question, almost happy. It sounded so loud and distinct that phrase became almost creepy. He knew that she would ask just that.

"Don’t even ask."

"But this is the only solution," — words that she had obviously been thinking about for several weeks now.

"Tell me, have you killed at least one person?" - Marianne is silent, because the answer is no, and this cannot be used as an argument for execution. "You are completely in control of yourself, so much so you are not letting yourself sleep, because you are afraid, ironically, of losing control of yourself in a dream. But it’s even more ironic that you still have not lost your mind and did not die from this only because you became a demon."

"I heard that the Black Eagles kill all the demons that they meet in their path. This is their job."

"Please do not say this in such a disappointed tone. Of course, it's easier for us to do just that, but I'm counting on you, Marianne."

"Counting on me?"

"I had only one opportunity to talk with a demon who did not want to tear my head off, but she is so ancient that she seems to have become too wise. I want to help you, but I also want to understand."

"Understand the killers. Monsters."

"They have no excuse, but there is a motivation that we know nothing about. You are the living proof that demons do not have to consume human flesh. There are many clues that we are fighting something more than horned cannibals," — Linhardt interrupts, unable to understand what Marianne is thinking. "Your real doctor will come tomorrow, an hour after my departure. You can leave with me. I’m asking you directly."

He said everything he could. He had much more information on his hands, but Linhardt was hesitant to trust it to a girl with self-inflicted insomnia, day and night dreaming that a handsome prince would come and cut off her head. Marianne attached to herself sins of the others; this was an understandable reaction, but it did not provide anything useful.

"The demon you mentioned. Who was she?"

"I promised her not to give away the name," - he nods to himself. "But she is Flayn’s aunt."

"Flayn? So she knew from the very beginning about your arrival? No, that would mean she knew about me too..."

"Just don't blame her for deception. She really considers you her friend."

"I don't blame her. I don’t blame any of you," - Marianne shakes her head, wiping her eyes persistently. "What if I attack you, Linhardt?"

"Then I will kill you."

"Good. To that, I agree."


	2. There she is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: smoking and blood mention
> 
> remember when i said that im going to write less dialogues?  
i think i ooced manuela but im sorry this is my au and in my au shes getting all the cocks she wants and also smokes bc on paper it sounds seksie!!!

They stood in front of the door, over which deer horns woven from thin branches hung, and Linhardt looked at her with a familiarly lazy curiosity. The way to the mysterious Archive took an hour, although Marianne quickly realized that this hour could be enough to go through the whole city to which he brought her. The only reassuring thing was that Linhardt was either not a chatty person, or did not want to engage in small talk specifically with Marianne - thanks to this, the girl could more or less relax. In her eyes, all the people were “good,” especially those who risked their lives for her, and Marianne didn’t want to disappoint anyone with her meager conversation skills.

"Now is your last chance to refuse. Of course, it will be a bit impolite, and if you think about it, all the resources that were spent on this trip will go nowhere, but the decision is yours. I don’t want to put pressure on you. To be more precise, I want to do this because your case is unique but, in the case of your refusal, I will not be allowed to continue."

"Um," she didn’t want to know how Linhardt would pressure her if that wasn’t an example.

"Hm. I must admit that I still have not learned how to read other people's thoughts. It will be easier if you say your answer out loud."

"I ... I still don't think it's a good idea ... But I want to help you."

"Fine. Honestly, I don’t know what would have been done to you if you refused," Linhardt winced and opened the door leading to the building. "So I'm glad you didn't change your mind. Come with me."

"What?" Yes, of course, Marianne thought that the coffin was the only place she deserved, but the vague news about her future was still not pleasing. 

Once inside, Linhardt noticeably picked up the speed. They quickly walked through several spacious rooms lined with bookcases, than briefly stopped in the hall, from which there were two stairs. There, Linhardt sniffed, winced again and led her to the left one.

"Do you sense it?"

"What? Ah, no, sorry."

"How strange. I thought demons have a keen sense of smell. And do not apologize."

To tell you the truth, Marianne simply didn’t know exactly what she should have sensed; what with her head spinning from the abundance of smells. Each book seemed to smell very strongly - and not at all like any other.

And she really didn’t want her nose to catch more scents than it should.

The little room they entered was much more in line with Marianne’s expectations: it was a space in which you had to move along the paths between huge stacks of books, notebooks and packs of paper. On the other hand, she did not expect to step on a half-eaten sandwich, and in the same way was surprised by cigarette smoke, looking like morning fog. Her adoptive father smoked, but never so much, and Marianne coughed.

Linhardt waved his hand in exasperation, and the smoke dissipated in a cool breeze - in response to this, an equally annoyed  click of the tongue was heard from the opposite end of the room.

"Don’t make a scene, dear."

She sat with her legs crossed on the table, holding a mouthpiece in one hand, and examining the shabby piece of paper with the other. Linhardt did not have much enthusiasm for her, but, meeting with Marianne's immediately downcast eyes, she smiled broadly and put out the cigarette.

"Marianne, right? Charming. My name is Manuela, try to remember it, honey."

Marianne rarely met people who were completely... themselves. Linhardt was close to this, but he so often plunged into his own thoughts that the girl hardly understood his character. Manuela showed all of herself in a few minutes, sincerely and with undisguised pleasure - the exact opposite of Marianne.

"All these documents will stink. If they don’t yet," Linhardt was not impressed with the woman’s charisma.

"This tobacco is the most expensive thing in the Archive," Manuela smiled dazzlingly, tapping her cigarette case with her nails. "I suppose you're here for work?"

"You bet."

"Ah, what a nasty boy! Marianne, be a sweetie, come here," sitting straight on a chair, Manuela pulled out a folder from a drawer and opened it at a random page. "I have to register you because you are our sweet little demon who agreed to help us. We'll leave boring questions to the end, okay? Splendid! Sit on a chair, kitten, it can be a bit of a drag. So…"

Very few people like to talk about themselves, but it's easier when they ask you specific questions. After half an hour they found out that Marianne, once prone to healing magic, could no longer cast at all; she did not feel much hatred towards people, did not perceive them as food, and could easily retract horns, claws and fangs, immediately hiding them. Manuela asked her to show this trick several times, each time with undeniable enthusiasm and carefully, with the quiet permission of Marianne, touched the demonic parts of her body.

Linhardt was dozing peacefully.

"You really are an extremely interesting specimen! I even envy Linhardt a little... Well, you have the blessing of the Golden Deer, dear."

"Blessing?"

"Oh yeah. Now only we can receive information from you. The Blue Lions, in general, do not need it, but it will save you from the excessive attention of the Black Eagles. Edelgard is unlikely to appreciate this step, Linhardt," Manuela slyly flashed her eyes in the direction of the young man who had ceased snoring.

"It’s her loss. We can only get results if we treat Marianne as a person, and not a brainless monster. She won't last a day if they interrogate her and not you. And she wouldn’t even be able to tell them anything."

"It's true," Marianne suddenly came to life, clinging to the skirt of her dress. Awareness of her own futility covered her with a familiar wave, but now everything was much worse than usual. People who barely knew her were at risk, but what could Marianne give them back? Only an extra burden, an obstacle on the way to answers, the meaning of which she will never understand. "It was a bad idea. Sorry. I will not be of any use."

"Your last chance was left behind that door," Linhardt said quietly. "Unfortunately, you don’t know your worth, Marianne, and you don’t want to learn of it. Therefore, the price will be only in my head for now, and one day you will understand,  that I bid low."

"And you still have to pay for a blessing." Manuela prevented Marianne from thinking about Linhardt’s words and how to respond to them. "Think of it not as a payment, but as a barter. An exchange."

"M-money?"

"No, of course not, honey. Stories, we need stories! Golden Deers are interested in all the information, and what could be more valuable than a demon telling us of something that she learned as a human?"

Marianne closed her eyes, thinking deeply. Did she know something worthy? She wanted to talk about her parents, but her memories had already become abstract, and she couldn’t catch something concrete.

"Manuela will be satisfied even with the story about how you fell from a tree as a child," grinning at the woman pursing her lips, he tried to look encouraging. "If I say something like “look not in the head, but in the heart” will it help you?"

For some reason, it really helped, and Marianne hoped that her cheeks did not turn red too brightly. What was stored in her heart had much clearer form, still drawing out a smile. The girl cleared her throat.

"Dad said that, um... That this fairy tale was invented by our family, and... Actually, it does not go outside the family," but Marianne was sure that the family name would die with her, and she wants something from them to survive. "It starts simple... Once upon a time there was a small bird. And all her friends lived with her, the same, um, little birds... They lived happily and easy until a terrible w-wolf came to them. His teeth stuck out in all directions, he had too many paws... And when he spoke, a black mass, looking like blood, flowed from his jaw. He caught one of the birds and tore off her wings. Then the rest of the birds began to fly away, where they could in all directions, but our little bird did not want to give up. She flew around the wolf, hoping to save her friend, although her wings were too short and her beak was not sharp enough... Meanwhile, a star was looking at them from above. The star saw the efforts of a small bird, and decided to help her. First, she gave the bird large wings so that it could fly faster, and then a long, sharp beak so that it could use it as a weapon. The star gave the bird agile claws and keen eyes. Having become so much stronger, the bird was able to save her friend and drive the wolf away forever, and the star, being happy that she was able to help, went home."

"Excellent!" Manuela broke the silence as soon as she put away the pen. "I have not heard any new fairytales for a long time. I promise to cherish it, Marianne. You are incredibly lucky with your new friend, Linhardt."

"Yes, I think I made it clear that I know."

"Of course you didn’t say anything to Hannemann? Ah, your poor mentor," there was not a drop of sympathy in the woman's words. "You deserve one more thing. In the forest, next to an abandoned chapel, a demon was discovered. He looks young, but you know... He seems to be friendly. Several girls saw him, always at night. Unfortunately, he was interested in their blood, but none of the victims went beyond a slight swoon - he knows the measure, although he calls himself a vampire. And he hung around the Archive."

"This is surprisingly useful. Thanks!"

"You understand that I had to report him."

"We will try to be faster. As a last resort, Marianne will carry me."

"What?" Marianne was not so sure of herself.

"Hmm, that was a joke."

They left the Archive in a hurry. Linhardt looked both agitated and tired at the same time, which was funny, and Marianne - in another world - probably would have laughed, but here she lacked the spirit. The girl was no longer afraid of the companion, but this didn’t mean that she knew how to relate to him. He did not hide the fact that he needed something from her, but Marianne would have preferred to give him everything he needed right away and put an end to it. It seemed that Linhardt himself didn’t know what he wanted, and therefore dragged Marianne along with him, hoping that the solution would come along the way.

They had to slow down after reaching the forest. Not only because it got dark, but also because both felt like they were being watched. Marianne curled up like she used to, while Linhardt began to merge with the shadows without any enthusiasm. At some point, seeing something that the girl could not see, he put his index finger to his lips and sank to the ground, gesturing for her to do the same. Marianne obediently sank as well, covering her mouth with her palm, just in case, so that she couldn’t be heard. Linhardt didn’t appreciate this decision, gently removing her hand from her face.

"It's not about the sound."

And really, it was not about the sound. Marianne suddenly discovered that Linhardt’s hands were hot, although for some reason she was sure that they were cold. This fact confused her for some reason.

What if she began to perceive him as possible food?

Not having the courage to appreciate the face of walking food, Marianne decided to examine his fingers, which had just flashed dangerously close to her mouth. The fingers were undoubtedly quite beautiful, but they did not cause associations with something delicious. She furtively looked up, just in time to see the intense expression on his face. He turned to her, about to say something, when it became bright around, as if in the afternoon, and at the same second a neighboring tree collapsed to the ground. 

Marianne didn’t have time to see what tumbled the tree down; she and Linhardt had already begun their shameful escape, but they couldn’t go far. The girl was able to see an arrow flying very close to her face. In a blinding beam, as if it was made of the sunlight, she could no longer hide her demonic essence. Having plunged into the ground, the arrow was divided into thin, gold chains, which binded Marianne to themselves - and then a radiant cage rose around. 

"God dammit!" Linhardt looked around in panic, until Marianne could not force herself to move. She was paralyzed, not so much by unfamiliar magic, but by fear. "Be quiet. I mean, you are always quiet... Shit!"

She landed on the ground, as if she had weighed not even a gram. A few feathers flew off her amber-colored wings on her head and back, but much more attention was drawn to the blood on her light face and form. Marianne felt that the blood belonged to a demon. And this put her in a dangerous position.

Of course, Marianne knew about the Saints, but she had never seen one so close. They completely devoted themselves to magic, so much so that their own changed their bodies. People who lived only to kill demons. In normal times, their presence alone was enough to feel safe, but now all Marianne could think was “I want to die.” And it was frightening, because right now, she really believed that she had to live at least in order to be useful. It seemed this desire turned out to be weaker than an obsessive thought.

"Mercedes, she literally received the blessing of the Golden Deer today. You can't kill her.

"Hmm," The saint thoughtfully tapped her chin. "But it will disappear as soon as she shows aggression, won't it?

"Right. But right now she’s in a cage, and something tells me that the cage belongs to you."

Marianne tried to emerge from the swamp of negative thoughts in order to do at least something, but it turned out to be even more difficult than not letting herself fall asleep - a habit she could not refuse. The cage was crushing her, but stepping over fear, Marianne could finally move. Both Linhardt and Mercedes had a conversation that could have no end, and the arguments on both sides had been repeated hundreds of times. She had to get out, Marianne decided, but stopped herself after grabbing the sun rods. If she escaped, would it be of any use? Even if this does not create more problems, what are the demon's chances against its natural enemy? Marianne sighed. While she was creating only problems, there was also no sign of her helpfulness there.

"We’ll just check something, okay?" Mercedes smile was so warm, as if it was sent by the sun itself. "Marianne, right? Tell me, Marianne, what are you thinking of now? I should warn you right away that lying will not work."

Everything gradually fell into place. It turns out that, ironically, the light sent Marianne to the darkest place. She opened her mouth to mumble the words she had worn out by now, but she froze. It seemed wrong still. It was as if Marianne was about to break some stupid rule set by her parents, and she knew exactly that she would take the heat for it. But the feeling of longing became so close to her! Marianne clenched her fangs.

Since the night when she woke up in a cold sweat and was moved to the house of the Blue Lions, not a day passed by when she didn’t think that someone was watching her.  In fact, only two people were watching her now, and her life was in the hands of one of them.

Linhardt's face had many emotions now, a hint of any of them was not there before. In the end, that was enough.

"I... I want to be useful, and then... Then you can kill me," it was a hoarse cry, full of despair. Marianne bursts into tears - for the first time in several days, and couldn’t understand what caused these tears.

"Poor thing," while shining, Mercedes was cold. But the touch of her cool, cpvered in dried-up blood hand on Marianne’s head carried so much sympathy that it didn’t matter.

"As a result, you will not proceed with execution, is that right?"

"Of course, Linhardt! The truth in her soul simply will not allow me to do this, what do you think of me!?"

"Remove the cage then."

"Ah. Yes."

Linhardt managed to catch Marianne, who lost control of her legs as soon as the magic of Mercedes disappeared; the girl recoiled, convincing herself that the frail magician would not have the strength to hold her further.

"We need to discuss your diet. Your body obviously needs more care, Marianne. Mercedes, what can you suggest?"

"Oh, first of all, of course...."

The frail magician. Wouldn’t have enough. Strength!

The place where the arrow had previously hit was now covered in small flowers. Everything connected to the saints was bright and full of life, and Marianne felt a strange envy mixed with a deep respect. But only she felt delight now because, for the rest, this incredible magic has long become mundane.

"Did Manuela tell you about the local demon?"

"And he is no more! He was a bit like Marianne, but gone too deep."

"It's a shame... I was hoping to use his friendliness."

"He did say something interesting! But I'll tell you tomorrow. Good night, Marianne! I am so glad to meet you! I'm sure your existence is a good sign."

Mercedes soared into the sky, leaving behind any desire to hunt Marianne. Linhardt rolled his eyes: they had to return on foot, on their own, without the warm light of the saint. A small ball of fire circled in front of them, but it was barely illuminating the road, and creating any more was simply dangerous.

"We are lucky that we met Mercedes. Her fairness is absolute, but new meetings with other saints can have different consequences. Also, I know what you're going to say, and no, it’s not your fault."

Marianne obediently shut her mouth.

They no longer spoke, too tired, both childishly wary of the dark forest. The girl looked around, hoping to see nocturnal birds, which is why she constantly crashed into trees; the young man, falling asleep, stumbled over every branch and stone. Several times they almost went in different directions, and the distance between them became critical.

"Maybe we should hold hands? I didn’t think that this stretch would turn out to be the most difficult part of the trip, and some kind of solution to the problem would not hurt us," Marianne stayed vaguely silent in response. "Yes, you are right, it won't help us much. In addition, we are almost out."

Hiding her hands behind her back, Marianne began to think about how beautiful it was in the forest.

City lights quickly changed her mood. Behind every door was a life that Marianne could harm. It was strange that it was so easy to forget about this simple fact, even if only for a couple of hours. Nevertheless, the girl thought that she would try to sleep today. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://imgur.com/a/XK4aKU9 manuela and mercedes  
IM VERY HORNY FOR MERCEDES also i dont believe in her short hair. this is my au and in my au she kept her fluff!!!!  
about her costume. When I was like 14-15 i encountered umineko no naku koro ni and there were siestas. Siestas have unreasonably horny costumes: https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/umineko3663/images/7/78/Siesta00.png/revision/latest?cb=20170115144340&path-prefix=ro and I love them. I love them so much. So in my head Mercedeses uniform is based on their uniforms (bc, i repeat, im horny for her). And im not going to pretend that saints arent somewhat based on angels from gbf. Im a simple woman i see something cool i STEAL IT


	3. The future starts with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no editors for this one folks so get ready for my sexy grammar and strange choice of words

Holding a candlestick in front of her, although her eyes could see much more in the darkness than she would have liked, Marianne walked slowly along the gloomy corridors.

This was another house owned by the Blue Lions, but it was very different from the previous one. There were no comfort and warmth in it, only solemn coldness and two floors of empty dusty rooms. This “promenade” of Marianne had no purpose; she just tried to cope with night anxiety through physical activity. Both Linhardt and Mercedes were asleep - the middle of a moonless night. Therefore, Marianne walked, alone, unable to get rid of a soft, tender panic.

The girl stopped in front of a large room in which there was nothing but a pair of chairs and a crooked piano. Curtains rose by the open window, and the wind blew out the candle - Marianne did not notice that. Her eyes were fixed on a young man sitting in a corner. He did not move, he did not say anything. Marianne only saw that the stranger was angry and felt that the threat that emanated from him has confined her to her place. But Marianne no longer wanted to be an easy target or a worthless load; unsuccessfully waving her hand to cast a spell, she watched several red sparks flying down from her fingers. The stranger grinned, but for the girl, it meant something completely different: a few days ago, her body basically denied magic...

A rattle was heard from the man’s side, and Marianne immediately darted out the door and pulled a rust-covered handle on herself. A sword passed through boards just above her shoulder and was immediately pulled back. 

“Are you here to kill me?”

This question was of no practical use. Marianne heard the breath behind the door - it was downed and hoarse. This man knew who she was, and, unlike Mercedes, he was not interested in her willingness to help. He saw Marianne the way she saw herself - a crazy monster, a future cannibal who had lost her soul.  
But he was late just a day.

“M-maybe we could talk?”

Another pointless question, but what was left for her? Once in this situation, Marianne seemed to have forgotten who Linhardt and Mercedes really were; a voice deep in her head successfully convinced her that they were helpless, and therefore the girl could not let the stranger leave the room. You can’t just trust people with swords who got into your house in the middle of the night.

“Do you remember your first feast?”  
“Feast?”

He spoke slowly and viciously. Each syllable was saturated with mocking contempt. The man behind the door had all the answers in the world - at least he knew much more than Marianne. Having forgotten about the danger that she had assigned him a minute ago, the girl was filled with hope. He did not attack her, did not try to kill her. At least in the first second that he saw her. Betting on a good human heart, she opened the door to learn more about herself. Instead, he grabbed her hand with a great force, and, making a semicircle, threw her into the wall.

“Pretending to be stupid? Do you think nothing will threaten you that way? ”

But Marianne really felt very stupid.

“Or do you want to seem noble? But I already saw that they sealed your magic. Hah. I didn’t think you could do this to demons. Nice horns, by the way. ”

He certainly wasn't insane; much more like Linhardt. As if looking for some information that only a demon could give him. But, unlike Linhardt, he was a much more aggressive hunter, and his morality and principles were too high for his wishes.   
But Marianne's body was in a dull ache, and that erased what was left of sympathy. The man hesitated, rushing about the room; magic burned in the palms of the girl. 

"Stop that. Immediately!” he roared.

His sword cracked. A familiar gold chain entangled the blade, which could not stand even a minute. Shards of metal fell to the floor, leaving the man without a weapon, but that did not scare him at all. He seemed accustomed to such situations and was ready to use the dead-end as a fulcrum.   
The rustle of the Mercedes wings mixed with their silent rattle. Several feathers, clinging to the cracks between the tiles, remained on the floor, but the saint did not pay attention to it. Marianne read more emotions in her calm face than in the fierce face of a stranger.

“I did not expect to see you again, Felix. I would like the circumstances to be nicer,” she gave him time to answer, but Felix gloomily remained silent. The girl sighed. “In this house is a member of the Black Eagles.”  
“Linhardt. I know about this bastard. ”  
“He is sleeping. I think he’s just pretending, but with him, you can never be sure. Did you want to kill him, Felix? ”

He backed away but slammed his back into Marianne, and fear flashed in his eyes. Perplexed? The yellow light of her eyes fell on his skin, and he turned away from her with undisguised disgust. 

“I need to talk to this beast.”  
“This is very impolite! First, her name is Marianne. Secondly, from your conversation, she left a dent on the wall. You are lucky that she is no longer a human. It would be nice if you apologized,” Mercedes scolded him as if this was far from the first conversation on such a topic. It would be better with another context as if it was just about broken glass. They were hurt, they suffered. Marianne felt superfluous.

“Lucky? Ha-ha-ha, that's right. “Marianne” can help me if you leave.”  
“You... don't want to ask me anything,” Marianne said. One simple explanation could give his walking around and outbursts of anger: fear. Reluctance to hear.   
“If you open your mouth again-”  
“How are your wounds, Felix?” Mercedes's question stopped the man as if she used her magic on him. Lowering his hand, he stood still, withered. Mercedes took a step forward but was in no hurry to finally reduce the distance - as happens when you want to get to know a street dog. “You ran away so unexpectedly, I did not have time to help you.”

They had hundreds of unfinished conversations, probably dozens of unfulfilled promises. Like a brother and sister, not related by blood, they stood opposite each other, experiencing emotions too different to conduct a real conversation. How long have they known each other? Felix even knew Linhardt - although it had long been clear that they all knew each other some way or another.

“Enough...”  
“But-”  
“Enough! It won’t lead to anything!” Grabbing a new sword from under his cloak, Felix directed it towards Marianne. Her sparks raged, lit up the whole room, made the girl's thoughts take a clear shape, focus on one thing - and a scarlet spear was born, whispering something that only Marianne could hear. “I thought you sealed her magic?”

“It's impossible,” yawning as he walked, Linhardt shuffled across the room and stood between Felix and Marianne. “I was hoping to avoid this commotion. As you can see, we have an uncontrolled monster here, so you better leave.”   
The uncontrolled monster drove the spear back and forth, trying to make it disappear. “I don’t know where it came from...”  
“Hmm, the instinct of self-defense probably worked. This is incredibly interesting... Unfortunately, I can not study it properly, because someone is still here. I feel how he wants to start another fuss. ”  
“You know perfectly well what these animals need in order to use their power!”  
“Marianne has never tried human blood, Felix,” Mercedes put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed so hard, that Marianne frowned, although Felix did not show that he was in pain. "Come with me. I promise we won’t tell anyone that we met you. ”

The little boy resentfully followed his good older sister.  
Sitting down on a chair with an exhausted sigh, Marianne laid the spear on her lap. It stopped whispering, but it was still warm as if heated. Felix could not ask her anything, but she was sure that she wouldn’t be able to answer him anyway. She was taken from the adoptive father's house immediately after the night when the Blood Guard came to her, depriving her of the opportunity to be among other demons. And then Marianne did everything so that not a single person would die from her hand.   
Who was Felix? Runaway and wounded, a hunter with endless swords made of cheap metal. What did he want to hear from the one he hated with all his heart?

“At first, Felix was in the Black Eagle, but we did not fit him. So he went over to the Blue Lions,” to the questioning look of Marianne Linhardt answered with the same questioning look. “I thought you would want to know more about him, given that he planned to at least hurt you. If I'm wrong, I can stop.”  
“No, no. Go on,” was it that easy to read her?  
“The Black Eagles are looking for specific things, so he originally came to us. But our research does not allow full-fledged hunting. There are Blue Lions for this. But even there were problems, because the Blue Lions set off at the first call, like soldiers. So conditional freedom of movement is limited. But they already started to turn Felix into a saint. So he cut off the wings on his back, which had just begun to grow, and escaped.”

Both Linhardt and Marianne grimaced.

“What is he looking for?”  
“No one knows. But once he had a close friend who was turned into a demon. I’m pretty sure that Felix wants to find him.”

Was it a matter of lost love?  
Marianne could accept it.  
His hatred of her was understandable even without that, but now the girl, even if she wanted to, could not have a negative feeling for this man. For the spear this was enough to make it disappear without a trace, dissolving along with the horns and claws. Marianne realized how much she missed her healing magic. It was silly, of course, but she was glad that she could treat people. She did not have a talent, only the desire to end the suffering of others. In her hands was absolute goodness, happiness, which took the form of magic. And on the one hand, Marianne was relieved magic had returned to her, but on the other hand... With a spear, you could only add a new wound.  
Or stop suffering in the most radical way.

“I understand you.”  
“Hmm?”  
“I also don't like fights. When I was younger, I used to get sick from just looking at the blood. But we are doing what we must to put an end to this protracted war. ”

Marianne exhaled. Linhardt also sacrificed something, would also prefer to be elsewhere. But here he is, for the hundredth time proving to her that everything is not so bad. Things can be much better, but so far everything is more or less normal, and you need to hold on to it.

“Thank you, Linhardt.”  
“Oh? For what? ”  
Marianne shook her head and smiled weakly. “Just thank you.”

In the rays of the rising sun, the house looked a little better. It had no purpose, therefore no one was looking after him, but once he belonged to one rich man. Then that man became a demon. Then the saints came for the demon.  
She and Linhardt returned to their rooms together to catch the last hours of sleep. Linhardt said that now he did not have a concrete plan, and there was only hope for Manuela and her endless tips. But Marianne thought about Felix and thought that they just got their new directions.   
For the first time in a long time, she set a goal for herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felix: https://imgur.com/a/ChFvWx2  
sending kisses for my 2 readers i see you guys mwah xoxo :*****

**Author's Note:**

> YES I NAMED THIS FIC AFTER THEIR SHIPNAME that only one person uses (me). I kinda got too invested and came to love this au a bit too much but im having SO MUCH FUNNN  
also. I have this shit https://imgur.com/a/C1oQq1F


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